


Commandeered

by Maiden_of_Asgard



Series: Captain, Captivated [2]
Category: Loki - Fandom, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Avenger Loki (Marvel), Canon Divergence - Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), F/M, IN SPACE!, Loki (Marvel) Does What He Wants, Loki (Marvel) Lives, Loki Reader Insert, Loki is the Coworker from Hell, Loki won't shut up, POV Second Person, Plot on the Side, Porn With Plot, Reader-Insert, Reluctant Avenger Loki, SHIELD, SHIELD Agent Reader, Smut, Space Captain Reader, Stupid Space Vikings, Trickster Loki (Marvel), no y/n
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2019-07-10 07:18:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15944465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maiden_of_Asgard/pseuds/Maiden_of_Asgard
Summary: Agreeing to let the God of Lies train you on the use of Asgardian spacecraft had been a terrible, terrible idea. Now that he’s got you in his hands... you aren’t sure if he’s ever going to let you go.Sequel to 'Ship It.'





	1. Chapter 1

Taking this stupid space-flight _training_ assignment with a former supervillain hadn’t been one of your brightest moves, all things considered. You like to think that you’re a pretty rational person - you _knew_ that the crush you had on him made you less likely to keep a level head, but instead of handing the job over to someone a little less biased, you’d jumped at the chance.

And _then_ you’d been foolish enough to let yourself get ensnared by his silky, teasing voice, falling apart under his expert touch.

And now, here you lie under the weight of all of these _terrible_ decisions - _and_ the weight of Loki, God of Lies, who is currently straddling you on one of the small bunks near the back of the cramped hold. His eyes glitter in smug satisfaction as he unzips the top of your uniform, pushing the fabric aside to bare your chest.

The air inside the ship is cool, and Loki’s gaze is burning. Goosebumps spread across your skin.

The bunk is just _barely_ big enough to accommodate his long frame; you decide that this little Asgardian ship must be designed more for practicality than for comfort. It’s incredibly overwhelming, to be so trapped, but you can’t deny the fact that your heart is racing with excitement.

Excitement and _fear,_ because not only has he broken the rules and used his magic on you already, but he’s also currently eyeing you with devilish intent. You shudder, and Loki’s lips part, the muscles in his jaw tightening.

_God help me,_ you think, _he looks like he’s lost his damned mind._

He turns his nimble fingers to his own clothing, then, unfastening snaps and buckles hidden amongst all of the fabric and leather, and you lie flat on your back beneath him, still trying to catch your breath from the _attention_ he’d given you at the tiller.

“This is a mutiny, Captain,” Loki says, leering as he shrugs away his leather armor and tunic, revealing an expanse of artfully-carved muscle and pale, lightly-scarred skin.

_I didn’t know gods could scar._

“Consider yourself _commandeered,”_ he adds, and though he smiles pleasantly as he says it, there’s a sort of possessiveness, a sense of _promise_ to the words that stokes your simmering need. You can’t help but lift your hips to aid him as he sits back on his heels to wrest your pants down your legs, his head narrowly missing the low ceiling above the bunk.

_Clearly,_ his patience for slow seduction has run thin.

His large hands slide up your hips and waist as he pauses for a moment to study you, and you feel a sort of hazy thankfulness that you’d actually - _miraculously_ \- managed to wear underwear that matches your bra today. It’s not anything fancy or lacy or _cute,_ and certainly nothing you’d think might tempt a literal _god,_ but at least it’s matching.

Loki looks like he approves.

He sighs lightly as he crowds over you again, bracing himself on one arm as his fingers pull the thin fabric aside. _“Wretched_ girl,” he whispers, though he says it almost _fondly,_ and then he’s gently stroking you again; you flush, mortified that not only are so slick and wanting for him, but that he’s now got you on full display.

Somehow, when he’d trapped you at the tiller and teased you to climax, his tall frame pressed against your back, it had seemed… more _acceptable._ Now, you can see his face - and worse, he can see _yours._

Loki’s smile is thin, fox-like. “Lost for words, mortal?”

_That’s right,_ you think. _I should be telling him to stop. Not only will I maybe lose my job, but S.H.I.E.L.D. will probably lock me up. Liability. This will make me a major liability—_

But his thumb presses down in _just_ the right spot, then, and your reasonable thoughts flee as you twist beneath him, gasping. “Too much,” you whine. _“Sensitive.”_ It’s not exactly like he’s given you any time to recover from the _first_ one.

“Oh, _no,”_ Loki practically purrs, and your arch as the pressure increases. “You, my darling little Captain, will take _whatever_ I choose to give.” Withdrawing his fingers, he suddenly takes hold of your jaw, and his grip is bruising as he leans down and roughly kisses you.

It’s unexpected - _shocking, really_ \- and your eyes flutter closed as he tastes you; he’s insistent and fierce, but there’s also a _languidness_ about it, as if he’s been waiting for _ages_ to explore you at his leisure.

You melt against him - it might be stupid, but in the moment, you can’t exactly bring yourself to care - and based on the little grunt that escapes him, you can only assume that Loki must be _pleased._ He releases your jaw and slowly slides his hand down your neck, your collarbone, and then he’s pushing your bra aside, his fingers digging into your breast.

Then his mouth follows the same path as his hand reclaims its place between your thighs. Distantly, you hear a faint keening sound, and you’re embarrassed to realize that it’s coming from _you._

_Too much,_ you think again, because you’d _barely_ had time to recover from the all-consuming electricity he’d managed to coax from you before, and he’s already got you burning again.

But you don’t dare say anything this time, because from what you’ve seen of Loki, he’d most likely _revel_ in the torture.

“You _need_ me,” he breathes against your heated skin. “You _crave_ my touch.” You writhe again as his fingers curl, and you feel him chuckle. “Yes?”

_“Yes.”_

There isn’t really any point in disputing that, now - he can _feel_ it. _And really,_ you tell yourself, _why bother lying to the God of Lies?_

“Good girl. Let it never be said that I am not a _benevolent_ god.”

The condescension should bother you, probably, but somehow, his arrogance only serves to increase your anticipation. You watch wide-eyed as he reaches between your bodies, freeing himself from the snug leather pants that he _really_ should’ve never been allowed to wear; maybe if he’d been forced into some nondescript, baggy uniform, this wouldn’t be happening right now.

He doesn’t bother pushing them down any further than is absolutely necessary, and with the both of you still somewhat-clothed, the whole thing has an extra air of _scandal._ Still, while your fear is still certainly _there,_ it’s buried too far behind a thick curtain of desire for you to really do anything with it.

It’s both terrifying and thrilling when you feel him begin to press inside of you, and you tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling him down to kiss you in an effort to hide your embarrassment, your inexperience. Loki is, by some stroke of good luck, surprisingly gentle at first. Maybe it’s because he can feel how tense you are as you adjust to him, or maybe he just wants to prolong your torment for as long as possible, knowing that if he waits long enough, you’ll beg him for more.

And you do.

_“Please_ , Loki.”

It’s easy to forget that you’re in an alien longship careening through space when he’s moving inside of you, and it’s an entirely _blissful_ sort of forgetfulness. The entire world is his skin and his smell and his _taste,_ and you’re drowning in his kiss when bliss finally overtakes you once again.

He breaks away to look down at you, and you notice that there’s a thin sheen of perspiration on his skin. _I’ve never seen him sweat,_ you realize. The sight inspires something almost like _pride,_ and feeling slightly emboldened, you slide your hands down his bare back and try to press him closer.

Loki allows you to touch him and dig your fingers into his skin as he draws closer, but you whimper as his rhythm becomes rougher, harder, and something dark flashes in his eyes. He captures your wrist and pins it to the bed, and you’re spellbound as his eyes flutter closed, by the slight tensing of his jaw and the flare of his nostrils as he climaxes.

It is - _without a doubt_ \- the most compelling thing you’ve ever seen.

You’re breathless and exhausted, muscles sore. Even Loki is panting lightly as he comes down from his high - _something else to be proud of,_ you decide. You expect him to immediately pull away now that he’s got what he’s been after, but he doesn’t. Instead, he settles against you, bracing himself _just_ enough to avoid crushing you, and once again sets to kissing you with surprising sort of languor.

The hazy sense of contentment hasn’t had a chance to fade away yet when Loki suddenly breaks away, sighing in satisfaction. “Thank you,” he says, pressing a tiny kiss to the tip of your nose. “Had I known that mortals could be so pleasing, I might’ve redoubled my efforts to claim Earth.”

It’s a sharp reminder of what you’ve just done, and _who_ you’ve just done it _with,_ and you blink slowly as you try to gather your wits. _Crap,_ you think. _I have to report this, don’t I? They’ll find out eventually anyway, and it’ll be worse if I try to hide it…_

Loki’s begun to move away from you while you’re lost in thought, and the sudden chill of the air makes you shiver. He refastens his pants and swings out of the tiny bunk-space with surprising grace; you know _you_ couldn’t manage it - your legs still feel like jelly.

When he yawns and stretches, his fingers brush against the ceiling, and you marvel at just how _imposing_ he is, even half-clothed and half-asleep. “Well,” he says cheerily, “I’d best go set our new course.”

Everything freezes. _New course?_

“What are you saying?” you ask, dread pooling in your stomach.

Loki tuts. “Now, Captain, did I not _say_ that this was a mutiny? We have a new destination.”

You quickly try to jump up to stop him, but you’re stopped in your tracks - there’s a manacle on your wrist, chaining you to the railing of the bunk.

He glides off into the cabin, and you watch through the open doorway as he rapidly begins to tap at buttons on the overhead dash.

“I’m afraid I haven’t been _entirely_ upfront with you, darling.” Loki flips one last switch and turns, a perfectly-apologetic smile on his face.

Your skin crawls. “What?”

“I made a deal, you see, with an old friend. Things seemed rather dire, once Thanos acquired the Gauntlet, and I felt that I had no other options. Now, it would seem that repayment is overdue.”

“What are you talking about?” you cry, caught somewhere between outrage and panic. “What deal? What friend?”

“En Dwi Gast,” he replies, grimacing slightly. “The Grandmaster.”

_The Grandmaster…_ Dr. Banner and Thor have mentioned their escape from Sakaar on more than one occasion, and you’d thought…

“The Elders of the Universe cannot die,” Loki says, as if he’s read your thoughts. “The Grandmaster is happily playing his games once again, I assure you.”

_Keep him talking,_ you decide, hoping that he won’t notice how you’re testing the cuff on your wrist. “Why would he help _you?_ Didn’t you betray him?”

Loki comes and crouches before you, smiling that unpleasantly-innocent smile of his. “He is more appreciative of being out-gamed than you might expect. And there was also a personal factor involved; Thanos apparently wounded his brother.”

“Wounded, not killed?”

“I _told_ you already, the Elders cannot be killed. Death herself has rejected them. The Grandmaster was perfectly happy to provide assistance, but at a price, of course.”

“I… what’s the price?”

Rolling his eyes, Loki rises. “His two escaped _champions._ Thor cannot _stand_ for me to cause any mischief with mortals, and he will certainly speed to the rescue once it’s become clear that I’ve made off with you. Sakaar is terribly dangerous, and so am I - I have no doubt that Banner will be persuaded to lend his _talents,_ as well.”

You gape at him. “I’m _bait?”_

“Well, yes.” He’s still smiling as he ruffles your hair, and you’re sorely tempted to snap at his hand. “Very _alluring_ bait, I might add. No need to worry - once I deliver them to Sakaar, all deals are off. I’m not responsible for keeping them there; they’ll likely escape again. Thor is nothing if not tenacious.”

“Yeah, actually, I’m a little more worried about _me_ at the moment.”

Loki laughs at that, and it’s the most genuine you’ve ever seen him. “Oh, Captain,” he says. “Fear not. I’ll take _very_ good care of you.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

You aren’t entirely sure how long the trip to Sakaar takes; in space, especially when you’re chained to a bunk bed, it’s kind of difficult to keep up with trivial things like the passing of time. 

When Loki sees how ready for a fight you are, he goes up to the cockpit and leaves you chained to the bunk in the hold, as if you’re somehow  _ magically _ going to calm down while half-naked and  _ chained to a bunk bed. _

“Loki,” you howl, yanking against the manacle. “Loki, come back here  _ right now! _ That’s an  _ order!” _

“I don’t think you understand how this works,” he calls back from the cockpit, not bothering to even turn around. The door between you hisses and slams closed, and the rest of your furious screams go unanswered.

Eventually, you give up. You  _ clearly _ aren’t making any progress.

_ Think,  _ you tell yourself. You’re going to have to try a different approach. But what? It isn’t like you can incapacitate him; the man is a god, and he already has the upper hand. He’s also the only one who knows how to steer this damned space-longship, which means that even  _ if _ you somehow manage to knock him out… you’ll probably end up stranded in the middle of unfamiliar space.

You rub your eyes, trying to redden them a bit to make it seem as if you’ve been crying. Maybe the damsel-in-distress routine will appeal more to the  _ Prince of Assholes’ _ medieval sensibilities. “Loki?” you whimper. “Don’t leave me alone back here.”

Nothing happens, and you decide that you need to crank it up a notch.

“Please?” you cry, a bit louder. “Loki, I’m  _ afraid.” _

The door slides open again, and there he stands, his arms folded. “I know that you are acting,” he says. “I practically invented the art, you know.”

_ Way to remind me that I just slept with someone who’s thousands of years old,  _ you think. “You seriously don’t believe that I’m scared?”

“Oh, I have no doubt that you’re frightened, Captain, but you do not truly desire my company for comfort, do you? You’re only attempting to take advantage of me, aren’t you?”

“Take advantage of  _ you—?” _ you begin to sputter, furious.

“But, I am sorry to inform you that it won’t work. We  _ are _ going to Sakaar, darling, and you might as well get used to the idea.”

You scowl at him, and he smiles. “Try to get some sleep,” he says, and then the door closes again, the lights flickering out in the hold.

_ I’m going to kill him,  _ you think.

There isn’t really anything else to do  _ but _ sleep, though, and you end up snoozing for a while on the bunk bed. When you wake up again, Loki is sitting near your feet, watching you. Glaring at him, you rotate your wrist, trying to work out some of the stiffness. 

“Did you have a nice rest?” he asks, his hand on your ankle. “Feeling refreshed, and perhaps a bit more open-minded?”

“Not really.”

“No need to  _ snap, _ mortal. Think of this as a grand adventure - a vacation, if you will. Think of all of the  _ fun _ we can have.”

The way his thumb rubs your ankle was incredibly distracting. “You can’t be serious. I’m not  _ sleeping _ with you again, if that’s what you’re suggesting.”

“I am not interested in  _ sleeping.” _

“Screw you, Loki.”

His smile widens.

“I’m hungry,” you say. “I’m hungry, I’m thirsty, I’m  _ cold,  _ and I need to go to the bathroom.”

“That is why I am here, of course - to tend to you.” He leans over you, pressing his thumb to the manacle that’s fastened to the bed railing. It makes a whirring noise and falls open, and Loki stands in one smooth motion, tugging you from the bed. “It requires my magical signature to unlock,” he tells you. “I’m afraid you don’t have any chance of picking the lock, darling.”

“Stop calling me that.”

“Fine,  _ Captain.” _ Your legs are wobbly, and you’re embarrassed by how heavily you lean on him as he leads you to the back of the hold. “But if we are insisting on  _ titles, _ then I expect to be referred to as ‘Your Highness’ or ‘sire.’”

“No.”

Loki sighs. “You are much more agreeable in the throes of passion,  _ Captain. _ Perhaps it was unwise of me to allow you to achieve satisfaction. I’ll have to keep that in mind, next time.”

“There isn’t going to  _ be _ a next time.” You yank on the handle to the door of the tiny, cramped bathroom, readying yourself to absolutely unleash  _ hellfire _ on him if he tries to accompany you. Fortunately, Loki seems content to wait outside, hovering on the other side of the door.

“Strip,” he calls out, drumming his fingers on the metal. “I’ll get you something fresh to wear, something more comfortable.”

You grimace, wondering why he seems to be able to make everything sound like sin. At least he hasn’t said that he’s going to try to keep you  _ naked, _ so that’s something. You’re sore, and you step into the tiny shower stall and press the only button you can find, squealing in surprise as a blast of cold water sprays down on you.

“Do you need some help in there, Captain?” There’s laughter in his voice, and you swear and turn off the water, feeling just as crummy as you had before, only much  _ colder. _

“I’m fine.”

“Yes,” Loki purrs, “you  _ certainly _ are.”

_ Damn him, _ you think. “You aren’t as smooth as you  _ think _ you are, you know,” you reply, resting your head against the metal of the door. “Where are the clothes you promised?”

“Come out here, and I’ll show you.”

“Do you not have an off-switch, or something?”

There’s a pause. “As you wish, mortal,” he says. “I will express no further interest in your  _ pretty _ little body - none whatsoever.” Another pause. “The clothes are on the bed.”

You wait another moment or two, wondering if he’d really just given up and left so easily. When you open the door, though, Loki isn’t there. Racing back to the bunk, you grab the blanket and quickly towel off, groaning in annoyance as you realize that the clothes he’s left you are nothing more than a tunic and leggings, likely standard-issue Asgardian shipwear.

It isn’t exactly as warm and cozy as you’d hoped.

Loki is found in the cockpit, sitting and watching the stars blaze by. He doesn’t turn, and so you walk around in front of him, dangling the manacle on your wrist. “Are you gonna take this off now?”

“No.” He doesn’t sound even faintly apologetic. “I admire your ferocity, little hellcat, but I don’t trust you; you may roam free for now, but when we sleep, you’re going to be fastened in place.” A slow smile spreads across his face. “I wouldn’t want to misplace you, after all.”

You throw your hands up and go to look for something to eat.

 

* * *

 

After sulking in the hold for as long as you can possibly stand, you venture back up to the cockpit, scowling at the source of your eternal frustration. “How long is this going to take?” you ask, wrapping your arms around yourself. The ship is getting colder as time passes; he must be trying to conserve fuel. 

“Not long,” Loki replies. “We should rest, I think. Sakaar will be very  _ exciting, _ and you’ll need all the energy you can muster.”

“Great.” You head back to the hold. “I call the bottom bunk.”

“I think not, Captain.” He glides up behind you, catching hold of your wrist and twisting you towards him. Horrified, you watch as he clasps the manacle at the other end of the chain around his own wrist. “We’re going to be sharing it.”

“Are you out of your mind? There’s no way—“

“Hush,” he says. “I’m sure you’ll have more room once we arrive in Sakaar, if you behave. For now, you’ll do as I say. Take it as a  _ compliment; _ I suspect that you could find a way to send a distress signal or alter our course, if I left you free to roam unsupervised.”

You squawk in protest as he wraps his arms around you, hauling you into the bunk with him like a sack of potatoes.”

“I’m not sleeping while I’m  _ chained  _ to  _ you,”  _ you snap, staring at the metal of the ship’s wall, trying to ignore the sensation of him pressed against your back. 

“Fine by me, Captain,” Loki replies. “Stay awake, if you wish.”

The lights go out, and you can’t manage to wiggle out of his grip, and soon, he’s snoring. 

_ I bet he’s doing that on purpose,  _ you seethe.  _ That snake. Anything to make this more unpleasant.  _

But, unfortunately for your righteous indignation, you  _ are  _ tired, and Loki’s embrace  _ is  _ weirdly comfortable, and before long, you’ve fallen asleep. 

 

* * *

 

He’s hard when you wake up - you can feel him against you, and in your half-awake dream state, you mistakenly press back against him. Loki lets out a barely-audible little grunt, the palm of his hand flat on your stomach, dragging you closer. 

_ “Loki,” _ you hiss, craning your neck to glare at him, “you said you weren’t—“

His eyes are closed. He’s still asleep.  _ Fantastic. Trapped against the God of Perpetual Arousal. _

Because he has to be doing  _ something _ to make you feel so needy… hasn’t he? He can’t just  _ naturally _ be so tempting; that’s ridiculous. You wiggle against him again, telling yourself that you probably shouldn’t. But you’ve  _ already _ done things you  _ shouldn’t _ with him, the less-rational side of your mind reasons, and it’s  _ clearly _ all his fault, and on top of that, who’s even going to know?

And  _ damn it, _ if you’re going to be kidnapped and hauled off to some despotic trash-planet, you might as well make the most of it. 

“Oh, dear,” his sleepy voice purrs in your ear. “Surely you aren’t expressing interest in  _ my  _ pretty body, are you, Captain?”

_ Crap.  _ When he’s asleep, it’s easier to forget what a smug dick he is all the time. “Definitely not.”

Loki breaks away from you immediately, and you nearly whine at the sudden loss of warmth and contact - but you  _ don’t,  _ because then he would win. You can’t let him win. 

Rolling over, you watch as he lazily stretches, glaring at him as the chain yanks your arm when he moves too far away. He doesn’t seem to notice. 

“How much longer?”

“What’s that?”

You huff, scrambling to follow him out of the bed before he rips your arm out of socket. “How much longer til we reach Sakaar?” 

“Oh, it shouldn’t be much longer. Eager to move on to the next part of our adventure, Captain? I have always enjoyed your inquisitiveness; there’s something very precious about mortal fascination with other worlds.”

“Don’t  _ patronize _ me, Loki—”

“Your Highness.”

Snarling in frustration, you try to yank against the chain; it’s a bad move, because Loki’s arm doesn’t even slightly move, while you’re pretty sure you just earned yourself a manacle-shaped bruise.  _ Great. _ “Don’t pretend like you were interested in my  _ inquisitiveness. _ You  _ used _ me—”

Loki halts abruptly in the doorway to the bathroom, and you almost crash into him. “Is that what all of this fuss is about?” he asks. “Rest easy, Captain; I could’ve easily commandeered the ship  _ without _ seducing you, if I had no real desire for you. You are wonderfully captivating, for a mortal.”

You start to see red.  _ That arrogant…  _

“That is  _ not _ what this is about,” you snap. “And if you don’t stop interrupting me—”

“You’ll what?” He smiles, leaning down to your level. “Will you nag me to death, darling? Ah, I forgot -  _ Captain.” _

His eyes gleam, and you’re a little annoyed by the fact that he’s still extremely attractive, even when you’re pissed at him. _ It just isn’t fair. _ There’s definitely some lustiness to that look, too, which isn’t exactly helping with the fact that you woke up already turned on and wrapped in his arms. 

Then his eyes narrow, a tiny, triumphant little smirk twisting at his lips, and Loki straightens. “I’d best release you now,” he says, “lest you see anything inappropriate while I bathe. I wouldn’t try anything clever, Captain - the odds of us ending up dashed against a comet in this sector are relatively high.”

You glare, but you bite back the tirade you’re tempted to launch into, because that’s probably what he’s hoping for, considering how much he seems to enjoy making you miserable. He wraps his hand around the manacle on his wrist, and it falls away; in that moment, you’re seriously almost tempted to make a run for the cockpit and hope that an emergency signal button magically appears.

Ultimately, you decide against it. Loki would just catch you in half a second, anyway, and you aren’t really eager to give him another excuse to wrestle.  _ Well, maybe if he was the one in manacles… _ That might even the playing field a little.

_ Don’t think about that. _

The door to the tiny bathroom slams shut, and you stalk back to the bunk in a huff, throwing yourself down on your back and stretching as much as you’re able. You’re a little resentful about how well you slept, truth be told; Loki sucks, but he makes a decent big spoon, at least.

And he’s good at one or two  _ other _ things, too.

_ Don’t think about that. _

It’s hard not to think about those things, though, considering the slight ache in your muscles and the way the bedding beneath you smells of sweat and sex and something distinctly  _ Loki. _ Of all the coworkers you could’ve developed a crush on, did it  _ have _ to be him? He isn’t even human.

He’s  _ also _ apparently not-so-reformed, considering this whole ‘mutiny and kidnapping’ thing, which is another problem entirely. 

Really, you’d best hope that S.H.I.E.L.D. decides that you have no culpability here, once it’s all said and done; maybe you can convince Loki to keep his stupid mouth shut about his ‘hands-on’ style of teaching. It’ll help that he’ll be out of their good graces after this latest escapade, which means that you’ll definitely have the upper hand if your stories don’t match. They won’t  _ want _ to listen to him, and the man  _ is _ known as the God of Lies.

Said God of Lies emerges from the bathroom only a moment later, shirtless and glistening with water that he apparently hasn’t bothered to dry off. Raking his fingers through his long hair, he sits down right beside you on the bunk, crowding into your space.

“Put a shirt on,” you tell him. “Aren’t you cold? It’s freezing in here.”

“I am a Frost Giant, Captain, and the cold does not particularly bother me, these days.” A drop of water trails down his chest, and you try not to stare. “But I’m certain that there are cloaks here, somewhere, if you need one.”

“Oh. Thanks, I guess. You should still put on a shirt.”

Loki winks. “Distracting you, am I?” He stands before you can retort, moving across the cramped hold to open a small panel in the wall. A bundle of fabric smacks you in the face, and you’re about to snap when you realize that it’s a long, fur-lined coat-thing. You hold back your words; no point in biting the hand that feeds you, right? Or in this case, the hand that keeps you from freezing in space.

By the time you’ve wrestled your manacles through the sleeve of the coat, Loki’s pulled on a tunic. “Our journey will become a bit rough, soon,” he says, leaning against the wall, his arms crossed. “You should prepare yourself for our landing, mortal, and for all that follows; Sakaar is a very  _ strange _ place, and you’d best not do anything that will put us in danger.”

“Like?”

“Like offending the Grandmaster, for one. I’d hate to see you melted.”

_ “Melted?” _

“It should go without saying, but don’t try to wander off.”

“How  _ could _ I,” you ask, brandishing your wrist, “when you’re keeping me  _ chained _ to you?”

“I’d considered removing it, when we land,” Loki replies easily. “Though of course, I’ll have to make sure that you’re secured when we sleep; it would be terribly embarrassing if my mortal bait was found roaming free in the Grandmaster’s halls.”

“I really don’t like being bait.”

“I know. But think of it this way, Captain - it is only a temporary condition, isn’t it? You’ll endure.”

You groan. “Then what? What happens once this grand scheme of yours works out -  _ if _ it works out? Do I just get abandoned on Sakaar?”

He frowns. “Well… no, actually. If I’d chosen someone else, then perhaps, but as I’ve ended up with  _ you—” _

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Loki’s frown deepens. He must not like getting interrupted, either. “I have a more vested interest in  _ you, _ obviously; I’m not about to leave you on Sakaar.”

“Why is that ‘obvious?’”

The look he gives you then is scathing. “I believe that the attentions I have shown you make that perfectly clear. While I did say that I would express no  _ further _ interest in your body, I’d imagine that the interest I’ve already expressed would be convincing enough.”

“There are other agents,” you say, slightly offended - but also weirdly flattered - that he’s apparently so into you just for your body.  _ “Attractive _ agents.”

He rolls his eyes. “But there’s only one of  _ you, _ isn’t there?”

The words hit you like a blow, and your cheeks flush, but Loki doesn’t seem to notice; he’s already turned and left through the door to the cockpit, and you’re left alone with a very uncomfortable, unwelcome sort of pride bubbling in your chest.

 

* * *

 

Sakaar seems to be - much to your surprise -  _ literally _ a trash planet. You’d assumed that Thor and Dr. Banner had been exaggerating, but either you just happened to touch down in a massive landfill, or they were actually telling the truth.

The huge palace you’re in now is nice enough, you guess, but the bizarre outfits and appearances of some of the people you passed by in the hall as you were escorted inside have left you feeling pretty freaked out. Your eyes scan the room you’re in, trying to see as far as you can out of the windows, leaning away from Loki’s grip as much as you’re able - though to be perfectly honest, you’re glad that he’s there with you.

Loki  _ did _ leave you alone in the hall with some strangely-armored guards for a few minutes, and it nearly gave you a nervous breakdown, because they both kept massive gun-looking things trained on you the entire time. You’d been afraid to so much as sneeze.

But maybe that was preferable to actually facing the  _ notorious _ En Dwi Gast, who Loki is currently marching you towards. The man turns, and you’re a little shocked to find that, despite the slightly-crazy look in his eyes and the blue stripe down his chin, he almost kind of  _ reminds _ you of someone...

“Oh, how cute. Isn’t the little - where did you say she’s from?”

Loki’s fingers dig into your shoulder. “Earth.”

“Earth, Earth... That’s… that’s the dirt planet, right? Terra? Is Earth what the kids are calling it these days? How about that. Topaz, isn’t the little Earthling just  _ precious?” _

The woman at The Grandmaster’s side looks you over with obvious disdain, her lip curling slightly. “Absolutely.”

“So, Loki, how on  _ Earth _ did you manage to end up with this one?”

He grins at his own joke, and you watch from the corner of your eye as Loki manages the most convincing fake-smile you’ve ever seen in your life. 

_ They’re both completely nuts. I’m screwed.  _

“She works with my estranged brother,” Loki says, “and your Incredible Hulk. They’ll be coming to attempt to retrieve her, and then I will have completed my part of our bargain.”

“Interesting, interesting.” 

The Grandmaster is circling you, now, and while Loki’s posture is relaxed, his grip on your shoulder doesn’t let up even slightly. Maybe he’s afraid you’re going to flip out and make a run for it. You might be seriously considering that as an option, if not for the fact that the woman called  _ Topaz _ is looking at you like she’d be happy to squash you.

“Is she for sale?” he asks. “This, uh, this  _ mortal _ of yours? We haven’t had one of those around in quite some time, have we?” He looks over his shoulder, and the woman shakes her head.

“They tend to die,” she says, her voice flat.

_ Great. _

“I’m afraid not, my friend,” Loki replies, his charm never wavering. “I feel rather selfish about this one.”

“Hmm.” The Grandmaster taps his chin for a moment, looking back and forth between the two of you, like he’s working out some sort of puzzle. “Well, I don’t understand it, but I guess we all have our little kinks.”

You feel like you’re about to blow a gasket. 

“Topaz, take our wayward friend here to his old room,” he continues. “I’m terribly sorry if it’s not in the best shape, you know, we had that awful rebellion and lost a few of our workers. And then, well, I was in a bad mood, and I may’ve gotten a little overzealous with the executions. We’re short-staffed, at the moment.”

“Entirely understandable,” Loki says, bowing slightly. “And I thank you for your hospitality.”

Then he’s dragging you off again, and it takes every last ounce of your restraint to keep you from screaming in protest.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay updates! I really enjoy writing these two bickering, for some reason <3


	3. Chapter 3

The room you’ve found yourself in is lavish, but that doesn’t exactly distract from the fact that it’s  _ only one room. _ There’s a giant hot tub built into the floor,  _ suspiciously _ close to the floor-to-ceiling windows.  _ Not getting in that,  _ you think.  _ Not unless Magic Man decides to conjure up some curtains.  _

Loki, meanwhile, is examining knicknacks on the shelves, totally ignoring you as you stand in the middle of the room and fume. “It seems the Grandmaster hasn’t had any guests in this room, since I was last here.”

“Well, he did mention a revolution, didn’t he? That probably put a damper on the partying.”

“True enough. You can take a seat, Captain. We have plenty of time to take our leisure.”

“Yeah, like how  _ much _ time? How long are you expecting this plan of yours to take, anyway?”

He turns back to you, his finger pressed against his lip, eyes narrowed in contemplation. “Ah, there might be a bit of a complication, there.”

Maybe you should try strangling him, just to see what happens. “Complication…?”

“Time passes differently on Sakaar, mortal. Even if the Avengers set out after us directly, it might be days before they arrive here.” He grins. “Weeks, even. Won’t that be fun?”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Alas,” Loki begins, “while I  _ am  _ the God of Jokes, I’m afraid that this is entirely serious, though I—”

“You made it seem like this was going to be over soon, and now you’re telling me I could be stuck here on  _ Suck _ -aar with you for  _ weeks?” _

“Yes,” he replies, that infuriating smile still on his face. “That is exactly what I’m telling you. I did promise adventure, didn’t I? Besides, you’ve always wanted to explore alien worlds - you’ve mentioned as much, in the past.”

“Not like this!” Tired of standing and sulking, you decide to  _ sit  _ and sulk, instead, throwing yourself down on one of the massive red couches situated near the hot tub. 

“Well, things rarely turn out how we expect, I've found. Would you like something to eat?”

“Not hungry.”

“Liar, liar, little captain of mine. I’m sure that you’re famished - I certainly am, and I have far more stamina than you.”

You’re pretty sure that’s supposed to be suggestive, but you decide to ignore it. Loki would just  _ love  _ the opportunity to accuse you of having  _ inappropriate _ thoughts. “What do they even eat on this stupid planet, anyway?”

“I was in the mood for fruit,” he says. “Something sweet. The Grandmaster has a very impressive greenhouse, actually; I’ll see if I can take you there, if you behave yourself.”

The thought of exploring an alien greenhouse is genuinely pretty exciting, though you’d never admit it to him. “Fruit from here isn’t going to cause me to mutate or something, is it?”

“I doubt it, but that would be utterly  _ fascinating, _ wouldn’t it?”

You scowl. 

“Oh, don’t fret,” Loki says, picking up a tiny jar off of one of the shelves and uncorking it before taking a whiff. “I’ve already said that I’ll take good care of you, haven’t I?”

“Yeah, so where’s my room?”

_ “Your  _ room?” Setting the bottle carefully back in its place, Loki turns back to you. “You don’t get a room of your own, ridiculous creature; I thought I’d made that quite clear.”

“I thought you’d said I’d have more freedom here!” 

“And you aren’t currently chained to me, are you? Freedom is always a  _ relative _ thing, you know. Besides, you’re much better off here with me, considering the circumstances.”

The man is doing terrible things for your blood pressure. “Elaborate.”

“It is a strange, unfamiliar land, and you have no friends here - save for me. There’s also the fact that the Grandmaster might very well interpret me sending you off alone as leaving you up for grabs, so to speak.”

_ “What?” _

Loki shrugs. “Things are different here, mortal. I’m sure you’ll adapt.”

“I’m giving you fair warning right now that I’m probably going to smother you in your sleep.”

“That is one of the things that I love about you, Captain - your insurmountable ferocity.”

_ Ignore him,  _ you tell yourself.  _ He loves the attention. Don’t give it to him. _ Through the window, you take in the cityscape below; you hate to admit it to yourself, but Loki might be right, as far as safety goes. Things outside look a little chaotic. There are tons of aliens in the streets, and while most of the buildings are bright and gaudy, you can still see scorch-marks on some of them from the recent fighting. 

After a few minutes of picking over the shelves, Loki opens the door to the hall, and you watch out of the corner of your eye as he calls over one of the pink-skinned women waiting outside. You find yourself slightly annoyed by the way she places her hand on his arm while he’s speaking to her, and you tell yourself that you’re being an idiot - why should you be jealous over  _ him? _

You keep your gaze resolutely fixed on the window. A few more minutes pass, and Loki walks to your side, waving a hand in front of your face. “Lunch,” he says, presenting a crystal platter covered in fruit that seems a little too vividly-colored to be entirely safe. “You should eat. I’m sure all this pouting works up something of an appetite.”

“I  _ deserve _ to pout, you utter  _ ass. _ This is literally the worst thing that has ever happened to me, and I’m probably going to get fired when I get home, as the cherry on top of this whole crappy sundae.”

Loki pops some kind of tiny, spiky berry into his mouth, considering you for a moment. “Your talents are wasted at S.H.I.E.L.D., you know. They only restrict you.”

“Careers that allow you to work with alien spacecraft aren’t exactly easy to find, Loki.” You sigh, selecting something that looks kind of like a slice of peach from the tray. It tastes like honeysuckle, and you aren’t entirely sure if that’s good, or unsettling. “I have no idea what I’ll do if they fire me. That’s also assuming that I don’t just get arrested, or something.”

“You could stay with me,” he says, casually selecting another berry from the tray. “Am I not preferable to imprisonment?”

“Except, this  _ is _ imprisonment. Do you not get that?” The honeysuckle-tasting fruit isn’t too bad, you decide. It’s kind of odd, but it’s sweet and soft, and once you get over the unfamiliarity of it, you’re immediately craving another slice. “You kidnapped me. You’re keeping me trapped in your room - you literally had me chained to you last night.”

“Only as a precautionary measure,” Loki retorts. “Surely you must know that I would never cause you any  _ real _ harm.”

“I have no idea why you’d expect me to believe that.”

He has the nerve to look genuinely offended, and you almost feel a tiny shred of guilt, because you guess he technically could’ve just sold you off to the Grandmaster, once you’d landed on Sakaar. Or really, he  _ could’ve _ just killed you - it isn’t like the Avengers or S.H.I.E.L.D. would have any way of finding out in advance that the hostage wasn’t actually still alive and rescueable.

“Sorry,” you bite out. “I’m honestly more pissed about the whole ‘sleeping together’ thing than the ‘kidnapping’ thing, I guess. One is an occupational hazard of working with S.H.I.E.L.D., and the other is me just having terrible taste.”

Loki’s head tilts back slightly, and he watches you beneath lowered lids. “I’d be offended, mortal, but I know you don’t mean that.” He places the tray down on the table beside you, then stands. “Well, I’m off to enjoy the Grandmaster’s hospitality, I suppose. I’ll leave you here with your thoughts, as I can tell that you have no interest in joining the party.”

Your eyes narrow. “Party?”

“Oh, yes. The party never ends, here on Sakaar. An abundance of refreshments, beautiful, lithe beings from all manner of worlds, combat in the arena… there’s something for everyone, really.”

He’s smiling that sneaky, mocking little smile of his again, which makes you a little suspicious that he’s trying to get under your skin - probably via jealousy. You might not know every facet of Loki’s mind - and you doubt that’s even possible - but you  _ have _ been around him enough to know that he’s excellent at picking at insecurities.

_ Well,  _ you think, your irritation rapidly mounting,  _ that’s not gonna work. _

“Have fun,” you say, turning your attention back to the fruit selection. “Try not to catch anything.”

Though he hovers for a moment in your periphery, he doesn’t say anything, and after a moment or two, he simply laughs and leaves. 

 

 

~*~*~*~

 

The huge room has very little to keep you entertained. There are some books on one of the shelves near the bed, but they aren’t in any language you can read, and after flipping through them for a few minutes, you give up and put them back. You find a little metal ball that hovers in the air when you press a thumb-sized indentation on its side, but you can’t figure out what its supposed to do, beyond floating in place and looking shiny.

Some part of you is tempted to sneak out of the room, but there are probably guards or attendants still lingering outside of the door, and you’ve kind of decided that your best course of action is just to wait for the cavalry to arrive. Even if you do figure out how to get out of this palace and somehow make it back to the longship, you barely know how to work the thing, and the freaky space-portal that dumped you on Sakaar looks pretty terrifying to try to navigate.

_ Things could be worse, _ you tell yourself.  _ They could be a lot better, but they could also be worse. _

A few hours pass by, and you start to wish that maybe you’d been a little less scathing with Loki, because you’re pretty sure that you’re going to die of boredom. You’re too weirded out by the giant windows and the view of the alien planet outside to fall asleep, and once you’ve demolished the rest of the fruit, there isn’t anything else to do. 

It gets dark outside, eventually, though there are still plenty of lights illuminating the buildings beyond the palace, and the crowds flowing through the streets.  _ Do these people ever sleep?  _ you wonder, leaning against the window. It doesn’t seem like it.

You’re in an even worse mood by the time Loki swaggers back into the room, a tall, brightly-colored glass in one hand. “Ah, Captain,” he says. “I hoped you’d still be awake. I brought you a drink, if you’d like.”

The drink he offers you is a fluorescent green, and you grimace. “No thanks. That looks like actual poison.”

“Have it your way.” He brings the glass to his lips and drains it, following your gaze out the window. “It’s a very vivacious, wild sort of place, isn’t it? I’d never want to rule here, really, but I do enjoy visiting.”

“Are you seriously still set on ruling? That really doesn’t seem to be in your cards.”

There’s a moment or two of silence. “Did you know,” Loki begins, “that the  _ wise _ Odin Allfather once told me that I was born to be a king? And I was, for a time. He also told me that my birthright was to die, and this, too, I have done. My fate is in my own hands, now.”

You don’t have anything to say to that. He’s never said much about Odin before, at least not in front of you, and there’s a certain somberness to his words that’s very unfamiliar, very not-Loki.

“Not to worry, though,” he continues, turning back to you with a smile, “for I have plans for a crown, eventually. The perk of being immortal is that I have the luxury of biding my time.”

“While we’re on the subject of passing time, what am I supposed to do when you’ve got me locked in here? Being a prisoner is pretty boring, apparently.”

“It could certainly be worse. Perhaps you should appreciate the luxury of boredom, Captain. I could be torturing you, after all.”

“Yeah, right.”

Loki takes the seat across from you, a slightly unreadable look on his face. “I thought that you said that you didn’t trust me not to harm you.”

How is he so good at making you regret your words? “I mean, I think you’d probably toss me to the wolves if you needed to, but I can’t imagine you like… whipping me, or anything.”

Maybe that was a bad example, because his eyes darken, and you feel a bit of heat creep up your neck. “No?” he says. “I certainly can.”

“Very funny.” _ Ignore the innuendo. Ignore the innuendo. _ “Why’d you come back here to annoy me, anyway? Party get boring, or something?”

“The Grandmaster’s palace is never boring, Captain.” He leans back in his seat, and you try to pretend that the leather of his pants isn’t hugging his thighs in a  _ very _ flattering way. “Alas, I must confess that I found no conversation as tempting as yours.”

And then, to your shock and horror, he strips off his jacket and shirt, discarding them on the cushion beside him.  _ That manspreading son of a— _

“Is something the matter?”

“Um, yeah. You took your shirt off.”

“It’s nearly time for bed,” Loki says. “I’m simply getting comfortable.”

“Fine.” You cross your arms, refusing to avert your eyes; he’s doing this on purpose, and you’ll be damned if you’re going to back down without a fight. 

He continues to sit there, watching you. It’s extremely awkward. 

“I quite like you,” he finally says, spreading his arms out on the back of the couch. The scar on his abdomen looks a little shiny in the evening light, and you can’t help but wonder, once again, how something could ever manage to scar  _ him. _

“Yeah?”

“Yes. I have been pondering the best method of earning your favor, and I have come to a wonderfully-appropriate conclusion, I believe.”

If the shirtlessness didn’t already have you on-edge, this newest train of conversation certainly does. “And what would that be?”

“From what I gather, much of your angst results from the fact that you feel that I’ve taken advantage of you, correct? I propose that you take advantage of  _ me. _ Fair is fair.”

“I…  _ what?” _

Loki grins. “Should I be more explicit? I’m suggesting that you make liberal use of my body, Captain—”

“I got that,” you snap. “So basically, the whole idea is just to get  _ you _ laid again. I think I’ll pass.”

_ Not that it isn’t a tempting proposition… _

“Not at all. Believe it or not, I tend to be very… demanding. I’m offering to forgo my control over the situation, which is something that I can assure you I’d never do for my own enjoyment. I won’t move an inch, unless you permit it.”

_ Well. _ That’s kind of a difficult mental image to ignore, honestly. The wheedling, lusty side of you whispers that no one will know, so how can it really hurt? If word does get out that you and Loki got amorous on this training-flight-gone-wrong, it isn’t like the number of times will really matter at that point, will it?

_ Take a deep breath, _ you tell yourself. _ Pretend you’re more confident than you really are. _

“Can I handcuff you?”

He seems surprised, and you take that as a good sign. “Beg pardon?”

“I mean, I totally don’t trust you not to just grab me and take over the second I come over there, so I figure it’s pretty reasonable. Besides, you had me trapped at the tiller back on the ship, remember? It’s not that different.”

Loki’s eyes narrow. “Is that so?”

“Yep. So… basically, either agree to my terms, or leave me alone.”

“You drive a hard bargain, Captain.”

Shrugging, you try to hide the fact that some part of you is  _ really _ eager for him to agree. “Suit yourself. Have fun over there alone.”

“Fine,” he says after an uncomfortable pause, apparently irritated that you haven’t thrown yourself at him already. “Have it your way, then.” He unclips your manacles from his belt and drops them on his lap, then leans back in his seat again. “You’ll have to retrieve them, though.”

You stare at the cuffs on his lap; he’s basically taunting you, and it’s making you feel a weird desire to show him up, to  _ actually  _ take control of the situation. If you could at least wipe that self-assured smirk off of his face, you’d be satisfied. 

“Okay.” Standing, you wonder how to beat approach this whole  _ encounter,  _ because handcuffing attractive, half-naked gods was never a part of your training. Maybe it should’ve been, considering who you’d been paired with…

Loki doesn’t move an inch when you carefully pluck the cuffs from his lap, which is almost a little unsettling, considering the intensity in his eyes. He almost reminds you of a snake, poised and ready to strike.  _ Play it cool,  _ you tell yourself.  _ You’re in control.  _ He holds his hands up, offering his wrists, and he lets out an annoyed little huff when you move around behind his seat. 

“You  _ cannot _ be serious.”

“Serious as the grave. Hands behind your back.” Begrudgingly, he complies, and you feel a tiny surge of confidence. “You have the right to remain silent,” you add, knowing that he probably won’t get the reference.

He must not get it, because he stiffens like he’s insulted, and you’re a little surprised that he actually leans forward and allows you to clasp the manacles around his wrists. When you circle back in front of him, his lips are pressed in a thin line, and he’s glaring. Remembering how patronizing he’d been back on the ship, you can’t help but add a very insincere,  _ “Good boy,” _ patting him on the cheek. 

There’s a lot of bare skin to work with, since he’s already shirtless, but you’re honestly a little unsure of how to approach the problem of getting him out of his pants. Maybe you should’ve had him take them off before you chained him up.  _ Notes for next time,  _ you think, followed quickly by,  _ oh, God… why am I already thinking about next time? _

Loki licks his lips as you stand there waging your internal debate, and you can tell that he wants to say something; it’s pretty impressive that he doesn’t.  _ He teased me with zero mercy,  _ you tell yourself.  _ Let’s see how he likes it. Go big or go home.  _

Too bad you  _ can’t _ go home. 

And so, you climb onto his lap, straddling him. Loki lurches forward for a kiss, but you duck away, and he frowns. “Not yet,” you say, pushing him back against the seat. “You haven’t  _ earned _ it yet.”

“Haven’t I?”

“I said to stay  _ silent, _ didn’t I?” You give a little experimental roll of your hips, and his glare darkens. “You  _ really _ aren’t good at following commands, are you? That’s a shame.” 

At first, it’s a little embarrassing to just grind in his lap, to  _ use  _ him like that… but it feels good, and you close your eyes and try to focus on the sensation. Hands on his shoulders, you test out different rhythms, and you can feel him harden.  _ Damn.  _ That has a much bigger reaction than you’d expected. 

You try to remember every smutty romance you’ve ever read - what should you try? How can you possibly get back at him for seducing (then kidnapping) you, dragging you along on this crappy adventure?

Loki’s head is resting on the back of the seat cushion, putting his neck on a tantalizing display. That seems like a pretty good place to start. You brace yourself against his chest, leaning forward to press a kiss to the side of his throat. He trembles when your tongue slides against his skin, but he stays still.  _ Impressive.  _

The friction is good, but you want more; unfortunately, you don’t want  _ him  _ to know that you want more, so you decide that you’ll just have to get yourself off like this. That seems like a pretty good way to torture him - and it’s not like he doesn’t deserve a little torment. 

Power is a wonderfully addictive thing, and the tension in his jaw and his labored breathing make you feel  _ powerful.  _ “Still glad you offered?” you whisper in his ear. 

Loki nods once, a short, jerky motion, his eyes dark. He tries to kiss you again, but you successfully evade him. “Watch it,” you threaten. “Or else.”

From the way his eyes glitter, you can guess that he’s probably thinking something along the lines of:  _ Or else, what?  _ Annoyed that he still seems to be relatively confident in himself, you scrape your nails lightly down his chest, immensely satisfied when his hips roll beneath you. 

You return your attention to his neck, beginning to get slightly out of breath, yourself; you’re building closer and closer to the edge, and you just need an elusive  _ something  _ to push you over. And even then - even  _ so close  _ to bliss - you still can’t help but feel the urge to torment him further. 

“Loki?” you whisper in his ear. 

He only groans slightly in response. 

“I’m almost there,  _ Loki.” _

His lips crash against yours, and you decide to allow it. 

You hear a crunching, metallic sort of sound, but you’re too distracted to pay much mind to it, because when you finally manage to come, you come  _ hard.  _ You hum in contentment, raking your fingers through his his as you  _ generously _ allow the kiss to continue.

Okay, so maybe it’s less out of generosity, and more due to the fact that Loki is a very,  _ very  _ good kisser. You’re never gonna admit that to him, though. He practically whimpers when you bite down on his lip, and you immediately pull away. “I thought you said that this isn’t for  _ your _ enjoyment.”

“I am not enjoying this  _ at all,” _ he rasps. His eyes are dark; you realize now that his expressions for ‘lust’ and ‘bloodlust’ are eerily similar - he looks like he’s ready to charge into battle. 

_ Time to make a strategic retreat, then,  _ you decide. With one last yank of his hair, you stand and stroll over to the bed. Or at least, your  _ intent  _ was to stroll, but your legs are a little wobbly.  _ Seems like he’s past noticing things like that, anyway.  _

He watches you, aghast, as you drag back the thin blanket covering the bed and climb in, stretching luxuriously.  _ Bed’s all mine, now,  _ you think.  _ Gonna leave your ass right there to think about what you’ve done.  _

“Goodnight, Loki.”

“I… you…” His eyes narrow. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to bed.” Yawning, you curl up on the side farthest from the window, feeling pretty damned relaxed.  _ Guess he’s good for something, after all. _

Then he crosses his arms, scowling. It takes you a beat to realize why that’s off, and then you take in the mangled manacles on his wrists, and you sputter in outrage. “You  _ cheat!  _ You could just break them the whole time? That wasn’t part of the deal?”

“It was hardly intentional,” he says. “Besides, I kept playing your game, didn’t I? I would say that deserves even more appreciation than if I’d  _ actually _ been unable to escape.”

“Except you not being able to escape was kind of _ the whole point, _ because I can’t escape from stupid Sakaar! I thought those things were Asgardian, anyway - how the hell did they snap like that?”

“I was a little lost in the moment, Captain. You didn’t really think that I’d give you the opportunity to completely render me helpless, did you? Given your reckless streak, you might’ve attempted to chain me up and run off, and something far worse than me might’ve found you roaming the Grandmaster’s halls.”

When you don’t respond, he sighs. “You  _ could _ consider it a compliment, you know.”

“Well, I don’t. Enjoy sleeping on the couch.”

You expect him to argue, or to get up and storm after you… but he doesn’t. He just sits there, his arms wrapped around his chest, shoulders hunched. The puppy-dog routine  _ shouldn’t  _ work, and you  _ know _ he’s faking it… 

You sigh.  _ “What?”  _

“It has grown cold,” Loki says. He even manages to work up a slight shiver.

_ That bastard.  _ “Hello? I  _ know _ you’re a Frost Giant. Besides, your shirt is literally two feet away from you. Just put that back on, if you’re so cold.”

“It has been on the  _ floor,” _ he replies, scandalized. 

_ Don’t you dare,  _ you tell yourself.  _ Don’t you dare let him in the bed.  _ He curls up tighter, and the broken manacles on his wrists rattle.  _ Pathetic,  _ you think.  _ And it’s obviously all an act.  _

“You know what?  _ Fine.”  _ Peeling back the covers, you begin to construct a barrier out of the oddly-shaped pillows littering the bed. “At least this way, if someone decides to try to murder me in the dark, they’ll have a fifty-percent chance of getting you instead.”

Loki perks up. “You’ll have me join you?”

“Yeah, but stay on  _ your  _ side. You stick even one finger on my side of the bed, buddy, and I’ll bite it off.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Captain.” The pitiable look melts away, and he strides over to the bed with a spring in his step. Before you have a chance to object, he hooks his thumbs in his pants and pulls them off. 

You bury your face in a pillow, your face burning. “What the hell—”

“I don’t enjoy wearing trousers to bed, Captain,” he replies breezily. The mattress dips as he settles onto his side of the bed. “But, not to worry - I’ll be keeping everything on  _ my _ side of the bed.”

_ Send his ass right back to the couch.  _

When you peer over your pillow to glare at him, Loki has settled onto his back, a book in his hands… and with a very obvious erection hidden beneath a  _ very  _ thin bedsheet. 

“Are you kidding me?”

Loki follows your gaze. “Ah. Well, you can hardly blame me, can you? It’s a perfectly normal reaction, and one that you  _ intentionally _ provoked.” He licks his finger and flips the page in his book, and your blood pressure tics up a notch. 

_ “Do _ something about it.”

“Very well.” He drops the book on the nightstand, then settles back against his pillow, his hand sneaking under the sheet.

“Are you nuts?”

“What do you mean?” Loki asks, his eyes wide and innocent. “You said—”

“That wasn’t… You know what, never mind. You go right ahead.”  _ I can play these games, too,  _ you think. He’s surprised, you can tell, and you must still be riding on the power trip from earlier, because it’s almost a turn-on. “Go ahead, Loki,” you tell him, resting your chin on your hand, the perfect picture of vague interest.  _ I’m calling your bluff. _

Except, it seems like Loki isn’t bluffing. After only a second or two of hesitation, he closes his eyes and gets back to the business at hand, and you can’t help but feel a tiny bit embarrassed at just how  _ riveted _ you are. His lips part, his breathing becoming slightly ragged, and you realize that  _ you’re _ starting to breath a little heavy, too.

_ Damn him. _ You can’t tell him to stop - that would be admitting defeat. Plus… plus, you’re kind of enjoying it, not that you can ever let him know that. His brow furrows, a guttural - but soft - little grunt escaping his throat. You’re used to him looking all wild and urgent in any type of sexual scenario, but right now...

“What are you thinking about?” you blurt, unable to contain your curiosity. 

Loki’s eyes flicker open, and he has the  _ nerve _ to look like he’d forgotten you were right next to him. “You, of course.”

Your throat goes dry.  _ Of course. _ Like there aren’t  _ thousands _ of other people from his past that he could be fantasizing about—  _ If he’s even telling the truth in the first place,  _ you remind yourself. 

His eyes close again, and you watch with bated breath until he shudders and tenses, the rise and fall of his bare chest strangely mesmerizing as he tries to catch his breath.  _ Jump him, _ your inner voice says.  _ He’s right there, he’s naked, and that was hot as hell. _

Your inner voice needs to get it together.  _ This isn’t some kind of sex-vacation, _ you remind yourself.  _ This is an intergalactic kidnapping. _ You’ve got to keep your head on straight, or Loki will have a field day with it.

Resolved to leave him there on his side of the pillow barrier, you roll over onto your back and stare at the ceiling,  _ pretending _ that you aren’t as horny as his stupid helmet. The room darkens, almost on cue, and you prepare to fend off his advances - or to convince yourself to enjoy the ride.

To your relief - or disappointment, depending on how honest you’re being with yourself - Loki doesn’t invade your side of the bed. “Goodnight,” you say again, a little awkwardly.

“Goodnight, Captain,” Loki replies. Not ten minutes later, he’s softly snoring, and you’re left to lie awake in the darkness, wondering if  _ maybe _ you should rethink your approach to being commandeered.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like the particular weirdness of this story, and I hope you do, too! <3


	4. Chapter 4

When you open your eyes, Loki’s face is  _ right _ in front of you. You’d be convinced that he was still sleeping, if it wasn’t for the slight smile on his lips.  _ “Hey—” _

“I am not on your side of the wall, Captain,” Loki interrupts. He squints at you, bleary-eyed. “And you have encroached upon my territory, in fact.” 

He pokes your knee, and you realize belatedly that you’ve basically hooked your leg over the pillow wall - and  _ him  _ \- during the night. “Oh,” you mutter, your cheeks flushing. “Oops.”

“Hmm.” Loki’s fingertips caress your knee. “We don’t really have anywhere to be at the moment, if you’d care to—”

_ “Nope,”  _ you quickly reply. You should probably move your leg back onto your side of the bed… but you don’t. 

“You did not allow me to finish my proposal.” He pinches your thigh, just hard enough to  _ almost _ hurt, and you shiver. “I thought that, given our obvious chemistry, you might allow me to further demonstrate my… talents.”

“I think that’s probably a really bad idea.”

“Most likely,” Loki acknowledges. “But who will ever know, sweetheart? I won’t tell.” His grin is sly, and his voice drops to a whisper. “I’ll be your  _ dirty _ little secret.”

_ Move your leg right now,  _ you order yourself.  _ Right now, damn it. Reduce physical contact. Look away from those eyes. Look away.  _

Loki licks his lips. 

Your resolve cracks. 

“You think you’ve got talents, huh?”

“Oh,” he breathes, “I  _ do, _ Captain.”

_ I’m done. Finished. Debauched.  _

Loki pushes you onto your back, a firm hand on your hip. “I am going to strip you bare, and then I am going to make you come  _ undone.  _ Understood?”

“Give it your best shot, traitor.”

Laughing, he finishes clambering over your pillow wall, settling between your parted legs. “I need you to understand something, mortal.” He rips your tunic open, and you verge on hyperventilation. “I’ve decided to thoroughly ruin you, and I’m prepared to keep you in this bed for as long as it takes.”

_ Holy hell,  _ you think.  _ He just tore my shirt in half.  _ When he digs his fingers under the waistband of your leggings and begins to peel them away, nearly yanking you off of the mattress in his hurry, you decide that you should probably help him out before he rips those, too. 

“Eager little thing.” 

You grab a fistful of his hair. “Shut it, Loki.”

His hand wraps around your throat before you can blink, but all he does is give a gentle little squeeze. “Careful, now, Captain,” he says. “You’ve already had your turn, haven’t you?”

“But—”

“Shh. It is far too early in the morning for your tongue - but not, I think, for  _ mine.”  _ Loki’s voice drops, and his hand does, too, his fingers skimming lightly across your collarbone and down to cup one of your breasts. 

You’re beyond saving, at this point - you’re aching and malleable to his touch, and the smug bastard knows it. His tongue traces a trail down your chest, your stomach… you’re starting to get frustrated by the teasing, but the he hooks on of your legs over your shoulder and buries his face between your thighs. 

“God, Loki,” you whine, falling back against the pillows and resigning yourself to your fate - a fate that’s likely to include a very satisfying, shameful orgasm, “that’s—”

“Will you be joining the Grandmaster for breakfast, Master Loki?”

Opening your eyes, you discover that one of the pink women is standing in the doorway, a curious expression on her face. You shriek and shove on Loki’s shoulders, and he scrambles from under the covers, wiping his mouth on his forearm. 

_ Kill me now,  _ you think, clutching the sheets to your chest.  _ Just kill me now.  _

“I will be down soon, thank you,” Loki replies. “I’m a bit busy, at the moment.”

The woman nods. “I will let the Grandmaster know. Would you care for company?”

Loki hesitates, glancing at you. 

“Don’t you dare,” you hiss, absolutely mortified. 

“Not today, I suppose,” he tells her, and you drag the covers over your head, hoping that maybe you’ll wake up and this will all be a really,  _ really _ bizarre nightmare. 

She bows and leaves, closing the door behind her, and Loki immediately begins sliding his hand back down your belly.  _ Is he serious?  _ You shove his hand away - or you try to, at least, because you’re quickly learning that Loki can’t be pushed around unless Loki  _ wants _ to be pushed around. 

“The mood is gone,” you tell him. “Extremely gone.”

“But you are still so tense,” Loki purrs. “I can feel you trembling.” You’re still grasping his wrist when he shoves his fingers inside of you, but by that point, you aren’t sure if you’re trying to push him away or pull him closer. He takes advantage of your surprised little gasp to kiss you deeply, grunting in approval when you bite his lip. 

You taste yourself on his tongue; you’d expected to be embarrassed all over again, but instead, you feel exhilarated. “Okay,” you concede, yanking on his hair to give yourself room to breathe. “Okay, but make it quick.”

“Slow is better, my delectable captain.”

“Guess it was pretty stupid of you to make breakfast plans, then, wasn’t it?” Loki withdraws his fingers and slaps your thigh, and you gasp. “Wait, I didn’t mean to stop—”

“I don’t intend to,” he replies, and your heart pounds, adrenaline pumping through your veins in fear and excitement as that dark, feral look returns to his eyes. 

_ I think calling him stupid pissed him off,  _ you think. He smacks your thigh again, just hard enough to sting, and a strange thrill races through you.  _ Maybe I should call him stupid more often. _

“You’re an impossible little brat, aren’t you?” Loki asks, a thin smile on his lips. “I make every attempt to give you a lovely, pleasurable morning, and you insult me.”

“I wasn’t—”

But he’s already flipped you over onto your stomach, and his hand comes down a bit harder this time on your backside. You let out a surprised squeak, half outraged, half embarrassed by how much you’re  _ enjoying _ this latest outrage. 

“The evening was yours,” he says, smoothing his hand down your back, “but the morning is mine.” His body presses over you, and his breath tickles your ear. “And I did promise to ruin you, didn’t I?”

“Loki,” you begin, terrified that he’s going to tease you to a frenzy  and leave you wanting in retribution for last night, “please—  _ Oh.”  _ He’s inside of you, all at once, barely allowing you a second to adjust to the size of him before he’s driving into you at a frantic pace, one of his large, cool hands on the back of your neck, pinning you to the pillow. 

Your fingers dig into the fabric; you’d already come so close before you’d been interrupted, and this sudden assault of sensation is almost too much to bear. Grunting in satisfaction when you moan, Loki releases your neck and works his hand beneath you, using his fingers to bring you back to the edge. 

“Come, Captain,” he orders, and you bite the pillow to stifle your cry as your body immediately complies. You’re exhausted and sweaty, but he doesn’t slow. His lips press against the shell of your ear. “My turn.” 

“Loki,” you gasp, “feels so—” He adjusts the angle of your hips, somehow making things feel even more electric, and your train of thought is lost. 

“How does it feel?”

“Good,” is all you can manage in response, and you reach behind you to grab a fistful of his hair. “So good.”

Loki clasps his hand over yours, squeezing your fingers as he climaxes, his breath ragged. He kisses your ear again. “Do you feel adequately ruined?”

“Mhmm. Sleepy.”

Chuckling, he rolls over, patting your backside. “No time for sleep, I’m afraid. We have a breakfast to attend.”

You push yourself up on your elbows. “If you think I’m going to eat breakfast with En Dwi Gast and his cronies, then maybe you really are stupid.”

“Careful,” Loki warns. “I will remember your words when we return to bed, and you can be sure that I will mete out an appropriate punishment. Besides, you wouldn’t want to offend our host, would you?”

“I’m pretty okay with offending our host, actually. Maybe while you’re down there, though, you can ask his staff if they’ve ever heard of knocking.”

“I see.” He smooths his hand back along the curve of your hip; you’re starting to think that he’s got a particular fondness for your ass, given the way he’s still eyeing it. “You have no reason to be so embarrassed. She’s seen many things more scandalous than that, I can assure you.”

“Things involving you?” you reply scathingly, wiggling away from him before he has the chance to slip his fingers between your legs again; from the look on his face, you’re assuming that’s his goal. 

“Norns, no. I’ve never partaken in those sorts of entertainments on Sakaar, though I’ve witnessed things that I’ll never forget.” Loki scoots closer to you. “You look unconvinced. Would you truly prefer to hear tales of my sordid escapades?”

Scowling, you shake your head. 

“I have far fewer tales of sordid escapades than you seem to believe,” he continues, “as tragically, I have been rather preoccupied for the past several years. I could, however, give an vivid recounting of the first time I was inside of you—”

“Shut up,” you cry, shoving him over onto his back as he cackles in delight. “Has it really been years?”

“Years, perhaps even a decade or so,” Loki replies. He doesn’t seem particularly bothered by the admission, and you blush as he begins to play with a strand of your hair. 

“But you’re so…”

“What am I, little Captain?”

“You know. Flirty. Inappropriate.” Your eyes flutter closed as he continues to toy with your hair, and you try to convince yourself that it isn’t incredibly endearing.

“With you. Not with everyone. Think back; have you ever seen me waste even a friendly smile on anyone else at S.H.I.E.L.D.?”

“Then this whole thing makes even less sense.”

Loki laughs. “Only because you are stubborn. I feel that I’ve been very obvious about my interest in you for quite some time now.”

_ He’s saying that he likes you,  _ your inner voice whispers.  _ Loki likes you. Like-likes you, even.  _ You tell yourself that you’re being stupid. It doesn’t matter, anyway; he commandeered a ship and kidnapped you. Neither Earth nor Midgard are going to be willing to let that slide. “I need you to know something.”

“Oh?”

“I will absolutely throw you under the bus, if I have to. Don’t think that I’d risk my neck protecting you from S.H.I.E.L.D. just because of… this.”

“This?” he prods, amused. 

“This  _ thing  _ we have going on,” you say, eyes narrowed. 

“Ah, you mean our remarkable sexual chemistry—”

“That’s not what I said.”

“But it is what you meant,” Loki says, “and what you mean, in this case, is a great deal more important than what you say.”

“Fine. Our chemistry, then - whatever you wanna call it, I’m not going to die for it, or go to jail for it.”

“Fair enough, little mortal. I can safely say the same.” He strokes your cheek with his fingertips, that infuriating smile still on his lips. “Breakfast?”

“God, no. I need to shower. I’m all… y’know. Messy.” Your cheeks heat at the smug little leer in his eyes, and you swat his hand away from your face, annoyed. “Don’t look so proud, asshole.”

“I believe that I have every right to be proud, considering the way that I had you practically dripping—”

You shove him again. “Is there a shower in this stupid place?”

“There is a massive tub right there,” Loki replies, pointing towards the window. “I would be more than happy to join you, as a matter of fact.”

“Okay, well for one thing, you aren’t invited, and for another, that hot tub literally has a glass window built into it. I’m not going to put myself on display for the whole stupid city to see. I didn’t see a shower in the bathroom - but there has to be one, right?”

Loki sighs in resignation. “There is. The control panel is just behind the door. Be quick about it.”

You gather one of the sheets around you and awkwardly waddle off to the bathroom before he decides to get sulky, cursing the ache in your thighs - but weirdly enjoying it, too, in some perverse way.  _ Oh no, _ you think, slamming the bathroom door behind you, _ is this really becoming some kind of crazy sex vacation? Am I really going to get involved with the worst coworker in the history of coworkers? Is this where I’m at in my life right now? _

The control panel is tucked into the corner behind the sleek metal door, and the symbols on it are completely incomprehensible. You poke at a couple of the buttons, frustrated at first when nothing happens, then shrieking in surprise when a sudden jet of water crashes down on you from above, ice-cold.

“Do you need rescuing, maiden fair?” Loki calls.

“No,” you yell, spitting out water. “Alien showers just hate me.”

You’re pretty sure you can make out the faint sound of his laughter. You can only assume that he knew that the shower was going to blast you to Kingdom Come, and you mentally note that down as yet another thing to get him back for, the very next chance you get.

Your mind quickly spirals with daydreams of just  _ how  _ to get back at him, and most of them involve him being naked and powerless, begging for your touch. He’ll do it, too; no matter how much he might claim to enjoy being in control, he quite obviously enjoyed himself during your little battle of wills last night. 

The cold water is too much to endure for long, and you slam your hand on the panel again until it stops. A hot, impossibly dry blast of air follows, evaporating the water from your skin.  _ Good thing that didn’t roast me,  _ you think.  _ It’s probably programmed to be safe for some kind of super-durable alien skin.  _

“Loki,” you yell, cracking the door open ever-so-slightly, “I need clothes.”

“Come out,” he replies. “I’ve already seen all of you.”

He probably  _ would _ be massively entertained if you stubbornly stayed in the bathroom all day, stranded by your pride. Deciding that you’re just going to have to learn how to be proud and intimidating while stark naked, you storm out into the main room, your hands balled into fists by your side. Fighting the urge to cover yourself is hard, but you try to stand tall. 

And really… you do feel yourself puff up with pride a little at the way Loki watches you. His eyes are dark, and he looks like he’s about two seconds away from tackling you back into bed. He’s changed into a long, loose blue tunic and some very tight-fitting leather pants, and you have to admit to yourself that you wouldn’t mind tackling  _ him _ back into bed, either. 

“You look comfortable,” you say.  

“As do you.” He winks. “Would you like to attend breakfast this way? It would make quite the statement, don’t you think?”

“And what statement would that be?”

“I am not certain,” Loki admits. “I just enjoy your nakedness.” Leaning over one of the couches, he snatches up a bundle of silky, peach-colored fabric and tosses it at you. “But since you won’t oblige me…”

You hold it up. The fabric  _ does _ feel nice, but it’s also sheer, and you can’t figure out how to put it on. “This looks like a sheet. Am I supposed to wear this?”

“It’s pinned at the shoulders and belted at the waist,” Loki replies. He comes over and plucks the fabric from your hands. “An old southern Asgardian style, which I can only assume was sent specifically to irritate me.”

“You don’t look very irritated.” In fact, he looks incredibly focused, his deft fingers pinching folds into the fabric as he swathes you in it, pulling a golden pin out of his pocket to fasten one of the shoulders. 

“Hold still, mortal.” He pins the other shoulder, then his hand falls to your waist. There’s a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, and you’re instantly on-guard. “Now for the belt,” he says, and you shriek as a golden snake darts out of his sleeve and wraps around your waist. 

“Get it off! Get it  _ off, _ Loki!”

He rolls his eyes. “It isn’t real,” he says. “Calm yourself, ridiculous creature. Where is that famous bravery of yours?”

“I don’t like  _ surprise snakes _ latching onto me,” you hiss. But he’s right; the snake has solidified into solid gold, heavy and shining around your waist. “You could’ve warned me, at least.”

“And where is the fun in that?” Loki fusses with your dress for another moment or two, tugging the fabric until he’s satisfied. “There. Pretty enough to eat.”

You glare at him, but he just smiles innocently, and you grab his arm and drag him towards the door. “Come on,” you mutter. “Let’s get this over with.”

**Author's Note:**

> Since there was interest in [Ship It](https://maiden-of-asgard.tumblr.com/post/176850855546/ship-it), I decided to do a follow-up! <3 
> 
> Also I've had a terrible case of smut-writer's-block lately, so this is my attempt to work past it, haha ;D


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